


Korrasami month 2015

by spudking



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and stuff, Korrasami Month 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spudking/pseuds/spudking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month long celebration of everyone's favourite leading ladies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Autumn/Workout

Asami stepped out onto the balcony, glad she’d switched to a rather warmer dressing gown than the light and floaty one she’d taken to Zaofu. She leant against the railings, cradling her teacup between her hands. It was getting colder now; the misty morning air had a little bite to it. The trees around the mansion were losing their leaves, staining the lawns a thousand shades of orange and brown. Naga was having the time of her life. Autumn was still something of a novelty to the polar bear dog, what with the seasons in the South Pole being a matter of how much day or night there was rather than any discernible change in weather barring the subtle shift from “really, really cold” to “the penguins are beginning to freeze together”. She’d thought Korra had been joking about that before she’d spotted the crowbar type device amongst the hunting gear. Asami had felt a little bad about that but, as Korra had pointed out, any animal dumb enough to get itself frozen to another one a) would have quickly been eaten by any of the dozens of predators and b) probably shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce for the good of the species as a whole. Plus they were as delicious as they were cute. _And speaking of cute..._

Korra came into view, nearly finished with her morning run around the estate’s boundary, Naga keeping pace beside her. She was clearly not feeling the cold, dressed in her usual uniform of a sleeveless shirt and loose trousers. Asami had offered a hundred times to buy her proper training gear but Korra was something of a traditionalist. It had to be said, it did seem to be working for her so far.

It was hard for Asami to tell at this distance, especially with Naga about, but Korra was steaming in the place sunlight, her body heat throwing up her own little personal trail of mist as she ran. Naga bounded along behind, producing her own rather more sizable cloud.

Korra came to a halt, resting her hands on her knees for a moment. She gave Naga a quick scratch behind the ears and moved carefully onto an undisturbed part of the lawn, still slick with the morning dew. She flexed her fingers, drawing a small stream of it towards her, leaving a dry streak in the grass. From the balcony Asami watched as Korra moved, slowly at first, with all the precision and grace of a dancer. The intricate pattern began to form, every line etched, every footstep a part of the whole. Korra’s eyes were closed as she turned briefly towards the balcony. Asami didn’t know if Korra knew she had an audience beyond her faithful animal companion. She certainly gave no sign of being aware of it as she moved in careful and, dare she say it, _fluid_ motions, a slight halo of water orbiting at her waist.

Eventually Korra came to a halt, standing in the middle of the pattern she had woven, hands clasped together in front of her almost like she was meditating. And then she flicked out her hands and sent the dew and the mist back to where it had come from, scuffing it out like a drawing in the sand.

She met Korra in the kitchen, being pulled into a slightly sweaty, clammy hug.  
“Spying on me?” Korra asked, amused, feeling just how cold the outside of Asami’s dressing gown was.  
“Can you blame me? I never get to see you bend like that. It’s normally, _wham, smash, whoosh!”_ Asami mimicked with hand motions. Korra snorted. “It’s nice to see all the delicate stuff too. Even if I have to freeze my ass off to do it.”  
“Freeze your ass off?” Korra repeated. “Ah, you soft Republic City folk!”  
Asami shoved her.  
“Rude.”  
“Always.”  
“Well, your royal hotness...” Asami paused, registering what she’d just said. Korra smirked as Asami tried to rally. “...are you going to shower before breakfast?”  
“Probably a good idea.” Korra agreed. She turned to leave but paused in the doorway. “You know, showers are a great way to warm up. I’d hate for your to actually freeze that ass off; I’m rather fond of it.”  
“I’ve noticed.” Asami said dryly, as Korra vanished down the corridor. A moment later her head popped back round the doorframe.  
“Did your ears freeze as well?” She inquired. Asami shook her head. “Your brain?” Another shake. Korra sighed. Some days Asami was worse at mornings than she was, and that was really saying something. “Are you going to get your frozen, pasty butt in that shower with me or what?”  
Asami blinked, registered what Korra had said, and hurried after her. She bumped Korra with her hip, making her knock gently into the wall.  
“Jerk.”  
“You love it.”  
Asami didn’t deny it, even as the retaliatory bump knocked her into the banisters. “And you love my ‘royal hotness’!”  
“...how long before you let me live that one down?” Asami asked as they began climbing the stairs. Korra pretended to think about it.  
“Oh, I don’t know. Never? I think never would be pretty good.”  
“You know something?” Asami turned to her girlfriend. “Just for that I’m going to use all the hot water!” She took off up the stairs at a run. Korra grinned, starting after her.  
“Like I need the hot water tank! I’m the royal hotness!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all agree Korra is indeed her royal hotness. 
> 
>  
> 
> Love it? Hate it? Want to yell at me for neglecting my other work? Go right ahead.


	2. Superheroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two and we're already behind schedule. Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asami might be a genius but she's not always the most observant.

Asami Sato was having a bad day. A really bad day. First her girlfriend had bailed on her for lunch and now she was about to get her skull caved in by some bastard in one of her own stolen mechasuits. The two incidents were thankfully not connected. That would probably have upgraded it to a shitty day. Still. Probably time to do something about saving her cranium from the solid metal fist about to turn it into pulp. The arm that was pinning her to the wall might as well have been a truck parked against her, pressing so hard the bricks behind her were creaking. The bricks...Asami raised her hands and fired her jets, blasting herself backwards through the mercifully thin wall and into some unfortunate family’s living room in a cascade of shattering brick. She regained her footing in time to see the mecha get hit by a fireball. Ah. So she’d turned up at last.

There was no official agreement between the Avatar and her. They’d never agreed to team up and at first Asami had been highly unimpressed by the hothead who’d dropped into her rather delicate hostage situation wearing a set of very old Water Tribe armour that would be about as effective as marshmallow when it came to protecting her from a mecha suit. Or even the gun that had been the threat. Then Avatar had ended the situation by encasing the hostage taker’s entire upper body in ice, trigger finger first. If he hadn’t cracked his head when he’d fallen over it would have been completely bloodless. These days Asami was happy to have the backup, although punctuality was not one of the Avatar’s many powers.

Asami climbed out of the wrecked house. The Avatar dropped down at her side.   
“Alright, Red?” She grinned, her eyes alight with unearthly power, face concealed in the shadow of the helmet and by thick war paint.   
“Fantastic.” Asami replied, the helmet automatically scrambling her voice beyond recognition. She raised one fist, sending a bolt of electricity arcing into one of the mechas. “Yourself?”  
“Never better,” she grinned, sending one mecha tumbling with a blast like a hurricane. Asami smiled back, not that the Avatar could see. Between the full face helmet and the full body powered suit Asami wore she wasn’t sure if the Avatar even knew she was female. Anonymity was a superhero’s best friend. Well, that and a suit that was thirty years beyond what anyone else could build.

Three goons piloting mecha were hardly a match for two superheroes. Asami managed to cripple one of them, cutting the hydraulics in its legs, rending it immobile. _One down. I might even manage to catch a late lunch with Korra..._ She heard the shout. She turned too late. The great metal fist was scything towards her head.  Asami braced for an impact that never came; the Avatar slammed into her, knocking her clear. _That’s the second time today. I’m getting sloppy_ Asami chided herself, getting back to her feet. The Avatar did not. The world stopped. Even the two mecha were frozen, as if they could not believe their eyes. Asami’s scanners were picking up signs of life; breathing, heartbeat. It had to be enough for now. She clenched her fists, sparks crackling around her knuckles. Time to end this.

When Asami was done the mecha were scrap metal and their pilots lying groaning in the wreckage. Normally she’d hang around to ensure the police picked them up but not today. She scooped up the Avatar, grateful for the mechanical assistance. The woman wasn’t exactly light. Her helmet was split at the temple, blood oozing through the crack. Asami fired her jets.

 

Asami laid the Avatar down on the little bed in her HQ. Now she had time to fully utilise the sensors she’d built into her helmet. Her skull was still intact, thank the spirits, but she was still unconscious. Asami bit her lip. She knew when she was in over her head and potentially serious brain injuries definitely counted.  
“Call Korra,” she said aloud, knowing the voice activated software would do exactly that. It was a hell of a gamble, and she didn’t want to bring her girlfriend into this, but what choice did she have? Korra didn’t pick up.

Asami bit her lip, looking down at the woman. She reached out for the helmet but stopped herself. It would be a gross violation of the superhero bro code. She couldn’t. Asami pulled up a chair to the bedside and sat a little awkwardly. It hadn’t exactly been designed for someone wearing a thick metal suit. She needed to do something, anything, just to keep her mind off the fact that the Avatar had been hurt because of her own carelessness. She was debating calling Korra again when the Avatar groaned, almost immediately trying to sit up.    
“Hey there,” Asami tried to gently push her back onto the bed, forgetting that she was still fully suited up. The suit didn’t really do ‘gentle’. “Oops. Sorry. Are you ok?”  
“Never better,” the Avatar repeated, sounding a little dazed. “You get them?”  
“Yeah. And just...lie still, ok? I’ve got a doctor coming.”  
“Don’t need one,” the Avatar said, pushing Asami’s arm off her and sitting up a little unsteadily. “Just need some water.”  
She went to remove her helmet and Asami hurriedly turned away. The Avatar snorted in apparent amusement.  
“Superhero bro code? I appreciate it.”

Asami returned with a bowl of water and sat looking away from the bed. She saw the glow out of the corner of her eye as the Avatar healed herself.   
“Why did you get in the way?” Asami asked, after a while. “I’m pretty sure my armour is better than yours. I could have taken that hit without splitting my skull open.”  
“Must just be a saving people thing,” The Avatar said casually. “Hey, you might want to cancel that doc. Don’t want you to have to give away your secret lair or anything for me.”  
Asami nodded then caught herself.   
“How do you know I’m giving anything away? Maybe this doctor’s been in on it from the start. Maybe they already know exactly where my lair is and who I am under all this.”  
The Avatar chuckled.   
“I have my ways. Say, am I going to have to fly out of here blindfolded? Only I really don’t need another head wound.”  
Asami hadn’t got as far as that. She just shrugged.

Asami stepped away to make the call. She removed her helmet, grateful to feel fresh air again, and one gauntlet so that she could work her phone without crushing it. This time Korra answered.  
“Hey, sorry, been crazy busy. You ok? I saw a voicemail, hadn’t had time to check it yet.”  
“I’m fine,” Asami leaned against the wall. “Everything’s fine, babe. Just...can you delete that? I had a moment of weakness and I just...please just wipe it, save my embarrassment.”  
“Yeah, sure. Look, are you free? Like, nowish? Because I think we need to talk.”  
Asami’s heart fell. Nothing good ever followed ‘we need to talk’.   
“What about?” She asked, trying to keep her voice casual.  
“Oh, just stuff. Your eyesight, for one.”  
Asami frowned. Her eyesight?  
“Yeah.” The voice came from behind her. Asami spun on her heel to see the Avatar stood there, face washed clean of paint, holding her phone to her ear. “I mean, come on! You really couldn’t recognise me?”  
Asami just gaped.   
“You...you knew?” She managed. Korra laughed.   
“After about two minutes. There aren’t exactly many people with the funds or the brains to build a suit like that, you know?”  
“...oh.”  
Asami felt oddly disappointed with herself.   
“And Asami, I’m not trying to be mean here or anything but, well,” Korra tapped the insignia on her chest. “You didn’t think it was a little weird that I have this exact image tattooed on my bicep?”   
Asami really didn’t have an answer to that.


	3. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra and Asami deal with some logistical problems.

Korra turned over again, trying to get comfortable, but she still couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t Asami’s fault. It really wasn’t. She should have seen this coming. It should have been obvious from the start that this would cause problems for them. It was obvious, in hindsight. An unavoidable product of their respective upbringings. It’s not like there hadn’t been signs either. Korra flipped the pillow for the fifth time. The other side hadn’t even had time to get cold. And in that was the essence of the problem. Asami just kept this room too damn warm. Korra had thrown the blanket off after just ten minutes. She was hot, she was disgustingly sweaty, and Asami was still trying to cosy up to her in her sleep because apparently keeping the bedroom at volcano temperatures still wasn’t enough to satisfy Asami. Korra was ninety percent certain she was going to melt into a gooey avatar puddle before the night was over. She knew there was a way for airbenders to keep themselves warm but she was too tired and groggy and warm to remember how, never mind reverse the process. Korra sat up, peeling herself off the sheet. This was ridiculous. She sweated less when working out. She slipped out of the bed, padding softly to the bathroom. She shed her clothes, stepping gratefully into the shower and turning it on full blast.  

Once Korra had suitably lowered her temperature to something approaching sub zero she turned the water off, got dressed, and climbed back into the bed. She managed to doze off before she warmed back up.

It became something of a routine. Korra was reluctant to bring it up given that Asami had already traded her blankets for much lighter ones to make Korra more comfortable on the nights they shared a bed. It was a marked improvement but Korra still woke up sweltering each time. It was getting to the point where she was becoming reluctant to stay at Asami’s place, even with the restrictions of Air Temple Island.

Korra yawned into her morning cup of tea, too groggy to have much of an appetite. Asami pulled up a chair beside her, laying her free hand on Korra’s forearm.   
“Are you ok?”  
“mm? Oh. Yeah. I’m good. Great.” Korra tried to swallow a yawn. Asami looked torn. She looked down at the table for a moment, thumb stroking across Korra’s arm.  
“Are...are the nightmares back?” She asked.   
“Are...what?” Korra stared at Asami in utter confusion. “Why would you think that?”  
“I hear you get up in the night,” Asami replied. Korra groaned as Asami went on. “You go and you shut yourself in the bathroom and you put the shower on and it’s just...I mean, I can help...”  
“It’s too warm!” Korra blurted. Asami stared at her. “The bedroom. It’s too warm.”  
Asami didn’t react for a moment. She set her cup of tea down carefully.  
“The bedroom is too warm.” She repeated, her voice sounding oddly strained. Korra nodded meekly. “So you got up to shower. And you didn’t say anything because...?”  
“I didn’t want to cause a fuss?” Korra tried. Asami pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. Her shoulders were shaking. And then the laughter spilled out. Korra couldn’t help but join in.

“You are a moron,” Asami told the Avatar, once she was finally done.   
“Compared to you? Definitely.”  
“Oh no.” Asami wagged a finger. “No flattery. I’ve been worrying about you, you know?”  
Korra squirmed guiltily in her seat.  
“I didn’t want you getting cold.” She said defensively. Asami smiled ruefully.   
“You’re sweet. You’re a moron, but you’re sweet.”  
Korra had to admit that it was a fair assessment.

When Korra went upstairs that night she was surprised to find the radiator off, the window open, and a single light blanket on the bed.  
“Uh, Asami?”  
“Basic scientific principles.” Asami said, coming out of the bathroom in a fluffy dressing gown. She smelled faintly of jasmine from her shower. “Find the extremes, then find the happy medium where you don’t fry and I don’t freeze.”  
“Did you just turn our bed into an experiment?”  
Asami raised an eyebrow. “‘Our’ bed?” She repeated teasingly and Korra went a little red.  
“Well...”  
“I like the sound of that. Now. Get your butt in ‘our’ bed.”  
“Someone’s bossy tonight.” Korra stuck her tongue out.   
“Oh, you have _no_ idea,” Asami grinned, unknotting the dressing gown, enjoying watching Korra’s yes widen as she realised that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. “I’m in the mood to experiment.”  
Korra all but dived for the mattress.

Korra half woke to a still dark room and Asami trying to press herself more against Korra’s side. Korra shifted in the bed, pulling Asami against her, running her perpetually warm hands slowly up and down the soft slope of Asami’s still exposed back. The heiress gave a contented sigh, tucking her head under Korra’s chin.   
“I think I prefer it like this,” She mumbled.  
“hmmm?”  
“I like it when you keep me warm.”  
“Well get used to it, ice queen. I’m not going anywhere. Anyway,” Korra smiled at the dark ceiling, not that Asami could see her. “It’s not like I’d need a cold shower after that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate the first part of this to my insane central heating which seems to be attempting to cook me alive.


	4. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I already did anniversary (well, sort of) for Korrasami week so I figured I'd do roommates instead.

Asami turned up the music and tried to block out the grunting from behind her. Why exactly had she agreed to have a roommate again? Especially one so...so...Asami spun in the desk chair.  
“Couldn’t you do that elsewhere?” She snapped. Korra froze, dangling from the top bunk by her knees. “Like a gym or something?”  
“Sorry.” Korra reached up and grabbed the beam, returning to her feet in one fluid and incredibly distracting move. At least now her shirt was covering her. “It’s pissing it down out there. I’d be swimming to the gym.”  
“It’s what, two minutes to the car park?” Asami shot back irritably. Korra nodded.  
“Yeah. And, for those of us without transport, a half hour splash.” There was nothing overly harsh about Korra’s tone. There didn’t need to be. Asami winced all the same.  
“Sorry. Look, do you want a lift?”  
“Huh?”  
“The gym. Do. You. Want. A. Lift? Because I can’t get any work done when you’re doing... _that_ ,” Asami waved a hand at the bunk beds. “And I’m kind of getting the feeling you’re like an overgrown Labrador puppy that will start eating the furniture if it doesn’t get to go walkies.”  
Korra hesitated. Asami sighed. Maybe she shouldn’t have made the Labrador comparison.   
“I’m sorry. I’m just behind on this already and I’m stressed as hell.”  
“It’s ok. And you think this is stressed? You just wait til my first deadline!”  
Asami paled at the thought.

“She’s the roommate from hell!” Asami complained. “Honestly, I think she used to room with Beelzebub.”  
“Can’t help thinking you might be overreacting a little here,” Opal told her. Asami scowled.   
“She keeps the room freezing!”  
“She’s from the South Pole.”  
“She comes in at three in the morning!”  
“And you’re still up working anyway.”  
“She leaves her shit everywhere!”  
“Have you _seen_ your workbench lately?”  
“Well...yeah...but...I damn near broke my toe on one of her weights! Who the hell needs a 20kg dumbbell in a dorm room? She does chin-ups on my bed, Opal!”  
Opal sighed. Asami wasn’t generally a diva but she had her moments. “Ok. Firstly; what did she do when you hit you toe?”   
Asami deflated a little. “Helped me to the chair and got me some ice. But still...”  
“And you really don’t know why she needs the weights?”  
Asami shrugged. Opal sighed. “Asami, how is it you can keep up with every technical innovation, no matter how mind-numbingly _dull_ , but you miss all the gossip on campus?”  
Asami still looked spectacularly blank. Opal decided to give her a hint. “About the swimmer who’s slated for Olympic selection?”  
Asami looked sceptical. “Her? Really? I mean she’s not exactly...” Asami paused. There was generally a certain odour of chlorine when Korra came back late. And she was definitely in shape, no doubt about that. Her shoulders, for instance. And her back...

Asami became aware of a clicking noise and registered Opal snapping her fingers in front of her face.  
“Fantasize on your own time.”  
“Fanta...no. No.” Asami shook her head. “Nope. Not fantasizing. Just considering.”  
“Well ‘consider’ her on your own time. Preferably with the door locked.” Opal grinned. Asami scowled. Opal held up her hands defensively. “I’m just saying! You could do a lot, lot worse than land a totally fit, as in the literal definition of fit, Olympian.”  
“I’m landing nothing.” Asami told her firmly. “She’s my roommate, I don’t even like her, and it’d just get really awkward.”  
“Really?”  
“Definitely.”

It was all Opal’s fault. It was. Before it had just been a purely aesthetic appreciation of Korra’s physique when she inevitably started doing exercises in the room. A quick glance to appreciate what even Asami would concede was a body in excellent form. Nothing else. No ulterior motive. And now, when Korra decided that she really, really needed to do press ups right then and there in nothing but her underwear, Asami found herself watching rather too long. It was ridiculous.

“You liiike her!” Opal teased, a little red in the face from the rum. Asami tried to shrink into her chair.   
“I do not.”  
“You like her!”  
“Don’t.”  
“Do!”  
“Don’t!”  
“Do!”  
“Don’t, and as we can plainly see by the fact she’s had the jock squad all over her this evening, she’s straight so it doesn’t even matter!” Asami waved a hand behind her in the general direction of the sports teams. Opal leaned sideways.  
“Huh.”  
“Exactly.” Asami said, folding her arms. “Conversation over, buried, done.”  
“It’s just...”  
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Opal, what? What? Just spit it out so I can end this sodding conversation once and for all, ok?”  
Opal looked slightly hurt by Asami’s tone. Asami sighed. “Sorry Ope. What did you want to say?”  
“I was just going to point out a slight flaw in your theory.”  
“Which is?”  
“That Korra’s been making out with Tula in that corner for the last five minutes.”

Asami turned so fast she was in danger of whiplash. Korra was indeed in the corner with the captain of the women’s fencing team and they certainly weren’t discussing the state of current affairs. Asami turned back to Opal’s broad grin.  
“You like her!”  
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Asami put her head in her hands.

Thankfully for Asami’s rapidly dwindling sanity Korra did not add to her list of roommate sins by bringing Tula back with her. Asami decided it would be easiest just to feign sleep when Korra arrived just before breakfast.

 

The door opened at two in the morning, bringing with it a strong smell of chlorine and an exhausted Korra. She gave Asami a nod as she trudged in, dumping her bag by the bed. Asami held up a hand before she could speak, eyes not leaving her laptop screen.  
“I have another two thousand words to write by morning and some bastard swiped my card so I can’t get into the library to work there. Interrupt me at your peril.”  
Korra considered this. Then she went to her wardrobe, pulling out a slightly battered cider crate which she set down by Asami’s chair. Asami tried not to look. There was a clink of cans, and that did it.  
“Korra, I swear to...!” She swivelled, to see Korra holding a couple of energy drinks.   
“In case of procrastination, break box,” Korra grinned, setting the cans down by Asami’s hand. “I’ve got fifteen of these and enough chocolate to choke a camel. When’s it due in?”  
“Ten o’clock tomorrow, physical copy hand in only.”  
Korra winced in sympathy.   
“My stash is your stash. I will now go bother Bolin and keep out of your hair. Just, uh, don’t drink more than like, four of those. They’re not technically legal in Republic City because of the caffeine content and I’m pretty sure your heart would explode if you got into double figures.”  
Asami hesitated as Korra went for the door. The cans glared at her.  
“Don’t.”  
Korra stopped. Asami sighed.  
“It’s way too late. Just, _please_ don’t make too much noise?”  
“I will be as silent as the grave,” Korra promised.

She wasn’t. Graves don’t tend to snore gently, or crack joints as they roll over in their sleep, but Asami could handle that. She cracked open the first can, fingers clattering across the keys fast enough to be fire hazard.

 

Asami woke with a start. She was lying down, something she did not remember doing last night. She also didn’t remember sleeping on the bottom bunk, because she was pretty sure...Asami rolled out of bed before the conscious mind caught up to the fact she was in Korra’s bed, landing on the floor in a tangle of blue bedding. Korra however was not in it and, as Asami staggered to her feet, it became apparent she wasn’t in the room at all. Asami looked guiltly at the mountain of debris she’d left on the desk. The desk. The essay. _Fuck_. Asami checked her watch. 11:19. _Fuck, fuck, **fuck!**_

 She lunged for the laptop, already rehearsing apologies in her head, only to find the entire machine covered in sticky notes. There was a message scrawled across them in fat red pen. “CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” There was an arrow to a sheet of paper by the side. Asami tried to, but her heart was feeling dangerously like she’d ingested triple digits of Korra’s ghastly energy concoction. She picked up the paper.

_Asami. Relax. Woke up and found you conked out on the desk with a printed essay. Figured I’d run it in for you. If you check your phone you’ll find a lovely confirmation photo (assuming you wake up some time after like 9.30 ish). Tried to put you in your bunk but ~~you get clingy in your sleep,~~ it was easier to just put you in mine. _

_Korra_

Asami put the sheet back down, checking her phone to find there were indeed photos of Korra depositing the essay in the box. And one of her hanging off the statue of the university’s founder in the quad. And one of the grass beneath the statue as she dropped the phone. Ok. So maybe Korra wasn’t quite the roommate from hell after all. Opal had been right on that score. But Asami would be damned if she let her be right on the other one.  

 

She never should have gone to the pool. She just hadn’t had a choice. Korra and Bolin were apparently the very best of friends meaning Bolin would of course be there for the championship swimming gala to cheer her on. And where Bolin went Opal went, and where Opal went she dragged Asami. And made unhelpfully accurate comments regarding Korra and her physique in a swimsuit. And didn’t even need to make comments when Korra started swimming because holy hellfire, Korra’s back muscles doing butterfly were proof of some kind of benevolent god. If Asami had entered the swimming pool believing herself to be straight there was a very good chance she would have been disabused of the notion by the third race.    
“You ok, Asami?” Bolin called over the cheering of the crowd as Korra pushed herself out of the pool, another race won. “You look a little red.”  
“I’m fine,” Asami assured him, as Opal snickered. “It’s just warm in here.”

  
Asami had been intending to slink away afterwards, only to run headlong into exactly who she’d been trying to avoid.   
“You came!” Korra said excitedly. “I’m so glad, I knew you were busy work and stuff but...thanks. Means a lot.”  
“You’re welcome,” Asami said awkwardly.   
“Do you have to rush off or you coming to the party?” Korra asked.  
“I really should...” Asami began, and saw Korra’s face fall. It was kicking a puppy. She couldn’t do it. “I can stay for one.”  
“Yes!” Korra cheered, practically lifting her off the ground with a hug.

Several drinks later Opal was all but hanging off Bolin’s arm.   
“Hey Korrrrra.” She said, in a tone Asami had learned to dread. “you wanna know something? Asami Salami,” she pointed one wobbly finger in Asami’s direction. “Wants to fuck your brains out.”  
There was silence. Bolin coughed awkwardly.  
“I keep telling her she can’t go drinking on a stomach of nothing but kale, but what can you do? I’m going get her some water...” he led Opal away. Asami finally risked a glance at Korra who, thankfully, did not look too offended. If anything she looked amused.   
“you wanna fuck my brains out?” She repeated. Asami could feel herself going redder by the second.  
“It’s not...I never said...Opal’s just latched onto the idea that...I mean...” Asami had to force herself to stop babbling.

“I’m sorry.” She said at last. “This is now awkward as hell. Which is exactly how I thought it would go, so yay, points to me.” She finished a little bitterly, taking another drink.   
“You thought it would go like this?” Korra still had that strange smile on her face. “So you’ve thought about this? And not just thought but talked about wanting to fuck...”  
“ _Please_ stop saying that.” Asami groaned. “I mentioned, _hypothetically_ , what the likely outcomes would be of hooking up...of...whatever, with a roommate.”  
“Is it just the roommate thing?” Korra asked, in a tone a sober Asami would have noticed was a little too innocent.  
“Well it’s not like I’m repulsed by you or anything.” Asami said, in a ‘duh’ kind of voice.   
“Not repulsed.” Korra repeated flatly. “Well, gee, Miss Sato, you do know how to charm a lady.”  
“Oh, shuddup,” Asami shot back, the master of the witty comeback. Korra grinned. “It’s not...I mean...” Asami was very aware that Korra was listening rather intently. She swallowed, trying to think of a way to get out of the hole she was digging for herself. “Look, just, please forget I said anything, ok? I like you, I don’t want to make things weird.”  
“What if I don’t want to forget?”  
Asami was about to make some comment about not wanting to hear about this debacle every week for the rest of her life when she stopped. Korra was smiling, but it wasn’t mocking. A gentle tease at best. “You know,” Korra said conversationally. “While we’re being truthful and all,” she leaned in close. “You don’t repulse me either.”  
Asami tried for a witty response. She really did. But Korra’s face was just entirely too close, and her smile was just entirely too bright. She kissed her. And Korra kissed her right back.

After they broke apart Asami had to laugh.  
“Opal is going to be unbearable when she finds out.”  
“Bolin too,” Korra agreed. She leant away a little reluctantly, scanning the bar for their friends. “We could, uh, well.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “We could get out of here. Delay that moment.”  
Asami snorted. “Riiight. Because they won’t see through that.”  
Korra smiled. “See through what?” She said, in her most innocent voice. “I’m tired. I swam a lot of races today; I need to get some rest. And if my lovely roommate wants to make sure I get back to the dorms ok, well, that’s just being a good friend.” She finished piously.  
“Is that what you told Tula?” Asami asked, before she could stop herself, but Korra took it in stride.  
“Nope. We both knew exactly what that was going to be. This...this I’m hoping is something different.”  
“Something that lasts past sunrise?”  
“Yeah.” There was no hint of jest on Korra’s face. She looked a little nervous it was true, but she radiated honesty, excitement. Asami smiled, and linked her arm with hers.  
“What are we waiting for then? Let’s get out of here before the gruesome twosome get back.”


	5. Rain

Asami hated the rain.

It had rained the night Yasuko Sato had been torn away from her. The heavens had opened as she huddled under the umbrella of the scary, scarred policewoman who had struggled to comfort her, sobbing for her mother. It had rained so hard she hadn’t been able to tell her father was crying when he’d scooped her up in his arms and held her as tight as he could without breaking her in two. He’d begged her not to look as they carried the covered stretcher from the mansion but Asami hadn’t understood why. She hadn’t understood any of it. And the wind had howled, and the blanket had flapped, and some nights when the rain was right and her mind was full of sake and shadows Asami could still hear the sizzle of the rain on her skin.

It had rained the day they sentenced her father. She had sat there in the gallery trying to listen to the rain hitting the glass and not think about her father’s fate being decided in front of her. She hadn’t known what to hope for. She hadn’t expected Korra, newly restored, newly empowered Korra, to take to the stand and make an appeal for her father’s life to be spared, citing the example of her predecessor and Firelord Ozai, calling upon the values that founded the city itself. And Asami had hated her for it, even as her father was sentenced to life rather than death, and she’d screamed at Korra in the pouring rain on the courthouse steps because what gave her the right? And Korra had just stood there and let her scream, one fist gripping the Avatar’s shirt, until she’d collapsed against Korra weeping and incoherent because despite the trail of blood and bodies she didn’t want her father to die and she didn’t know why.

It had rained when Tonraq had arrived, full of hope and excitement that had been so quickly and cruelly dashed. The storm so had been bad that he hadn’t been able to radio Senna to let her know the awful news. Jinora had braved the storm, sitting out all night on one of the most distant meditation terraces to evade their frantic efforts to find her, trying desperately to find just a trace of Korra in either the physical or spiritual worlds. Kai had found her in the early hours of the following morning, soaked to the bone and already coming down with a cold that had taken two weeks to shift and for a moment, for a single stupid, selfish moment, Asami had hated her for failing and hated Korra for running, for throwing away such a wonderful family, and then Asami had hated herself for even thinking that. She hadn’t spoken to anyone until the storm cleared and she could return to the mainland.

Rain made the long drives to and from the office ever longer. Rain meant coming back cold and damp to a cold and damp house and trying to forget driving round the racetrack or splashing around in the pool with people that seemed to have faded into ghosts. Rain meant trying to hunch her shoulders against the wind, cold water running down the back of her neck because there’d been no one to see her off and wish her a good day and remind her to take an umbrella, to chase after her with a coat. Rain was a reminder of the solitude. Rain meant bad memories of good memories and wet feet.

And then the sun came again. Warm and bright, perhaps too bright at first, so bright it burned her and she burned it right back. But after that the rain changed.

Rain meant Tenzin and Pema insisting that she stay the night on the island rather than brave the crossing. It meant curling up in Korra’s too small bed in the temple dorms, snuggled up under the extra blankets they set aside for her, and listening to the rain ‘plink’ off the tiles until they knew everyone else was sleeping.

Rain meant messing around with the kids and Naga, splashing through puddles without a care in the world, knowing that there would be hot soup and towels waiting for them back in the kitchen when they grew too tired or cold and a comforting if all-permeating stink of wet polar bear dog.

Rain meant re-watching the Nuktuk movers in the cinema she’d put together in an unused room of the mansion, with Bolin as ever so delightfully over-eager to bask in his moment of celluloid glory, and Korra playfully grumbling about the ridiculousness of it all and Opal pretending to get jealous over Bolin and Ginger’s extremely on-screen-only romance. It meant Mako cooking popcorn for them all, heating the bag between his hands and pointedly looking away whenever Bolin and Opal started kissing, usually whenever Bolin wasn’t on screen, and having to pause the film at least twice for Meelo to go to the bathroom.

Rain meant being Korra chasing her down the driveway with an umbrella because she could feel the rainclouds coming on the wind long before they appeared. It meant being welcomed at home with blazing log fires that made the whole place so wonderfully warm and bright, and a hug at the door no matter how wet she was. 

Rain meant Korra meeting her at the office, her own personal umbrella bending the water around her to keep her dry as they headed out to town to enjoy themselves just because they could.

Rain meant scaling the statue of Aang in spite of Asami’s less than half-hearted objections, standing on the great domed head and looking out at the city and the sea, Korra suspending the rain around them, the drops catching the light of the moon and of the spirit portal so it looked like they were surrounded by their own personal galaxy of stars.

Asami loved the rain.


	6. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well this one just really didn't want to be written. Here it is, at long last. With a bit of luck I'll be back on schedule before the mo nth ends completely.

Asami took the stairs two at a time, trying to calm herself down. Korra would be fine. Korra would be absolutely fine, and would probably laugh at her for panicking. She just needed to make sure. Asami hadn’t been able to make it down to the pitch before Korra had been stretchered off, to roars and applause, snitch held aloft in her functional arm. The first bludger had knocked her off her broom just as she’d started to pull up. Korra had caught the damn snitch practically in freefall. By dinner time the story would doubtless have mutated into a hundred foot dive and a veritable barrage of bludgers instead of two. It had been a frankly spectacular win, but right now Asami just wanted to know her girlfriend was ok.

There was a cluster of figures in scarlet robes outside the hospital wing, all trying to peer through the frosted glass windows that had been put in specifically to stop prying eyes from prying. The rest of the team didn’t bother telling her that Kya had thrown them all out already, that it wasn’t worth trying. Asami pushed her way through the double doors, heading for the far bed shielded by curtains. She could see the flash of gold as the snitch fluttered about above it. She paused at the curtain, clearing her throat in lieu of being able to knock. Kya’s head emerged, looking stressed. Her expression softened when she saw Asami.  
“Oh, thank Merlin. Come on in.” She held the curtain open and Asami ducked through.

Korra was laid out on the bed, still in her muddy Quidditch robes. The not-bruised side of her face lit up when she saw Asami, trying to sit up. Kya was quick to stop her, careful not to put any pressure on Korra’s injured side. Her right arm was elevated on its own private pile of pillows. The arm looked....Asami struggled for a better word than ‘wonky’ but it was all that was coming to mind. Well, that and “OW!”.  
“’Sami!” Korra beamed, despite the aforementioned wonkiness in her limb and one eye being swollen shut. “I was _flying_!”  
Asami turned to Kya, one eyebrow raised. Kya just shrugged.  
“I gave her something for the pain.”

Asami took a seat by Korra’s less injured side.  
“You feeling ok?”   
Korra tried to shrug. It was a mistake. She went white, grabbing for Asami’s hand as she swore under her breath. Asami squeezed back, running her thumb over the back of the familiar worn leather glove.   
“Try not to move around,” Kya warned her belatedly, although her tone suggested that it wasn’t the first time. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable once I’m done, I promise.”   
Korra tried to move again, just enough to crane her neck to see the damage, but Kya stopped her. Her voice was softer this time.  
“Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to look. Not til I’ve fixed it up a bit. Hitting the ground at that speed will give you more than a nasty bruise.”  
Korra gave Asami the puppy dog eyes. She leant over against her better judgement. Korra had smashed arm and shoulder first into the ground, so it wasn’t a surprise that Kya had opened up the top of Korra’s robe, pulling it away from Korra’s chest to give her better access to...better access to... Asami gagged and sat back quickly, which didn’t reassure Korra in the slightest.   
“I did warn you,” Kya said mildly, moving her wand in slow, careful spirals around the spur of bone that was sticking out of Korra’s skin. It began to recede back into its proper place with a slow, nauseating squelch. “That’s two new school records for you, Korra. Longest successful dive, and most broken bones from a Quidditch match. Humpty Dumpty has nothing on you.”

Asami was very determinedly not looking at Korra’s exposed collarbone. She looked back to Korra’s battered face instead.   
“That bad, huh?” Korra asked sympathetically, apparently out of it enough to forget she was referring to her own limb.  
“Nah,” Asami said reassuringly, brushing a bit of hair off Korra’s face. “Nothing Kya can’t fix, at least.”  
Korra winced, and Asami cupped her chin to stop her turning her head.  
“That’s the collarbone.” Kya announced, applying a dab of something that smoked to the hole it had made in Korra’s shoulder, instantly meshing the skin back together. “How you doing, sweetheart?”  
Korra looked at Asami expectantly. Asami rolled her eyes.  
“She means you, you dork.”  
“ _Oh_. Uh. I’m ok?”  
“I’d check for brain damage, Kya,” Asami grinned. Kya shook her head.  
“Ain’t a brain in that thick skull to damage.”

Kya was only too happy to turn a blind eye to Asami climbing into the little hospital bed at lights out, her fingers linking with Korra’s splinted ones.  
“Asami?” she mumbled.  
“mm?”  
“Did we win?”  
Asami kissed her cheek.  
“Yeah, babe. You won.”

Korra was released the next morning, still a little groggy and achey but otherwise in fine health.

It was halfway through Transfiguration when the little paper bird fluttered onto Asami’s desk. Korra’s handwriting was even worse than usual, but she could just about make out _Astronomy Tower, tonight, 9._ She scrunched up the note with a grin.

Asami’s enthusiasm petered out somewhere after the fifth staircase. After that it just became a grim slog, with only the promise of Korra waiting for her at the top to keep her climbing the seemingly never ending staircase. When she finally got out onto the roof though she wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. Korra had clearly raided the kitchens, although raided might have been putting it a bit strongly; she got on famously with the elves. There were enough goodies in the basket to feed a small army, or Bolin twice, a thick blanket laid out on the flagstones, and a little fire in a jam jar, the spell for which Asami had discovered in a notebook marked “H.G-W”. Korra had discovered a particular knack for the little fires, to Asami’s relief. She settled on the blanket, Korra draping another one round her shoulders before she sat back down. She pulled a bottle of butterbeer from the basket, magicking the cap off and passing it over. They sat in silence for a while, drinking in the view, the thousands of twinkling stars.

“Is there a reason for all this?” Asami asked. Korra looked offended.  
“I can’t do something nice for my girlfriend?”  
Asami just gave her a look. Korra shrugged. “Sorry for making you spend all evening in the hospital wing? Again?”  
Asami sighed.  
“You know I don’t care about that. Yeah, I was a _little_ worried when you nosedived into the ground, but you don’t have to make it up to me every time you get hurt.” Asami paused. “Well, unless you were doing something stupid at the time.”  
Korra rested her head against Asami’s shoulder.  
“I’ll do my best.”

 

 _“Hey, she’s waking up!”_  
Korra groaned. She could recognise the smell of the room, the feel of the pillows beneath her, the hand that was squeezing her own. She opened her eyes, letting Asami swim into focus above her. There were others there but Korra couldn’t have cared less. She took in as much of Asami as she could, noting the cut on her cheek, but she was there.   
“Did we win?” she asked, but the fact she was alive was testament enough of that. Asami smiled, bending down to kiss her.  
“Yeah, Korra. We won.”


	7. Library

Korra grumbled to herself as she searched the bookshelves. Asami had so much stuff. It was frankly unnerving. There hadn’t exactly been the opportunity to own much back in the compound; she had what the White Lotus gave her and what they allowed her parents to give her. Nothing too ‘distracting’ had been permitted. There had been a horrible few days when a particularly grumpy guard had tried to have Naga added to that last, but thankfully common sense (in the personage of an absolutely furious Katara demanding to know why on earth they had seen fit to separate not just the Avatar from their animal guide but a child from their only friend and threatening to shove an icicle somewhere unpleasant should the situation not be rectified) had prevailed. There had been a library there but the books had been very carefully selected. Asami just seemed to buy anything that took her fancy and the shelves had no organisation that Korra could understand. There was a system, she knew that much; Asami couldn’t function without one, but it was beyond her comprehension.

Korra ran her fingers across the spines and stopped dead. There was a book here with her name on it. She slid it off the shelf.

To call it a notebook would have been unfair. Asami’s notebooks were properly bound hardback books in the company colours, the gear logo embossed on the front cover. Asami never did anything by halves, after all. Korra took it over to the desk and turned on the lamp. The first page, other than the contents page, was a rough outline of a female figure. It looked uncomfortably like one of the autopsy reports Mako had once left on the temple kitchen table, to Pema’s horror. The figure was heavily annotated in red and black, picking out torn shoulder muscles and broken ribs, deep cuts at the wrists and ankles. There was a dotted line across at the level of the figure’s hips, labelled in Asami’s painfully neat handwriting, _‘loss of feeling from here down’._ Korra’s stomach flipped. She knew exactly what she was looking at. Her. Her, after the Red Lotus had damn near killed her. The caption only confirmed it; _Korra, 36 hours._

Korra sat back in the chair, staring at her own image. She’d known she’d been in bad shape. You didn’t just shrug off the kind of beating Zaheer had put her through, even without being poisoned, but everything had been so...so _hazy_ in the aftermath. Asami had helpfully noted that even at this point Korra was struggling to stay awake, never mind giving anything approaching a coherent answer  beyond ‘ _it hurts, it hurts,_ ’. The ink had run in places here. As if water had been dripped on it. Korra turned the page, driven more by horrified fascination than interest, and was thankful to find a lack of images this time. The fact it was titled ‘ _Poison’_ was less reassuring. There was a list of known facts regarding it; its colour, its effects, the quantity that Suyin had removed. These were then cross-referenced against a truly frightening number of possible culprits, narrowed down to two. Korra was not surprised in the slightest to see that Asami had done her own maths, based on the bowl’s volume, that suggested as much as a hundred millilitres of poison was unaccounted for. A later, smaller note suggested that this could clearly not be the case as neither Su nor Lin had detected any traces. Korra snorted. If only.

Korra was only slightly surprised to find the schematics. This was Asami’s book, after all, although most people don’t take the time to design a new kind of mattress. Korra was momentarily puzzled, until she spotted the neat little note. _Air Temple mattresses/pillows insufficiently supportive, causing back spasms._ Korra’s back muscles winced at the memory. Asami hadn’t been able to knock anything together in time, not until...Korra stopped. The mattress at the palace had certainly fit the description in front of her.

There was another map of her injuries, this one far more detailed, going into the range of sensation and movement Korra had had. There wasn’t much of either but the hopeful tone of the annotations noting the minimal improvements was almost painful. The less cheery ones, about the nightmares, about how withdrawn she’d become, were even worse. There were more notes here. References to books Korra had never read or even heard of. _We need to get her out of that bed. Out of that room. She’s fading away in there._

The next page had designs for a very, very familiar wheelchair. Korra wasn’t exactly the most technical minded but she could see the effort that must have gone into it, the thought that had gone into the specifics. Low weight, specifically to make it easier for her to push herself about, the handles on the rims being made of a very particular alloy Korra had never even heard of before to stop them getting too cold, the thicker, more robust tyres to help with rolling across snow.

There was more. Asami must have read every book in print about poison, about nerve damage, about trauma, and between summations of what must have been a small library’s worth of research and personal correspondence with several different experts there were the designs. A device to carry someone up stairs. Leg braces, on the assumption of a partial recovery, that would have allowed her some measure of mobility and, as Asami had noted, were easily concealable to afford her a little more privacy. And a saddle.

The saddle stopped Korra dead. It followed the same base design as Naga’s saddle, but with the addition of a back brace and waist straps. There were variations, untold hours of work culminating in a set of designs that covered every possible outcome of her recovery, or lack thereof. There were mounting blocks, and mounting ramps, completed with a collapsible wheelchair that could be stowed in an inbuilt saddle pouch. Korra was too engrossed in the images to hear the footsteps behind her.   

Asami draped her arm around Korra’s shoulders.  
“You find that book on Kyoshi?” She asked, and then saw the book in her hands. “Ah.” She sounded a little guilty. “So you found that, huh?”  
“You did all this?” Korra asked, stunned. “For me? Asami, this is...well,” she flicked through the pages. The book was almost full. “This is something else. This must have taken...”  
“Three years. Off and on.”   
“I had no idea.”   
Asami pulled out the spare chair and sat.  
“I wanted to help. No, I needed to help. And I couldn’t heal you, I couldn’t stop you hurting, I couldn’t get you to talk, I couldn’t keep the nightmares away. I tried to understand so I started sketching out where you’d been hurt and, well, it snowballed.”  
Korra finally looked up from the book.  
“I’d say it was of an avalanche than a snowball, but hey.” She bumped her arm against Asami’s. “Have I told you that you’re amazing today? Because I really need to start doing that on a daily basis. Maybe hourly.”   
Asami pretended to consider it.   
“I could stand to hear it a little more often.”    
“You’re amazing. And I love you. And I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”  
Asami smiled.   
“I love you too, you sappy dork.”


	8. Smile

Katara hadn’t needed to see Korra bend to know she was the Avatar. She’d just had to smile. That bright, crooked grin was all Katara needed to see. And she’d smiled a lot back then. She’d been so happy. Senna still missed those days sometimes. When it had been the three of them in the little lodge outside of town, and her daughter hadn’t carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Then they had come in the night and torn the world apart at the seams. Korra hadn’t smiled so much after that. She’d been so homesick the first few weeks at the compound, and even Katara’s familiar presence hadn’t been much comfort. Things had gotten better though, eventually. She’d started smiling again. She’d been happy. Even when it had all gone to hell she’d got through it. She’d made friends. She’d dated, and Senna had had to laugh as Tonraq immediately became the over protective father of every potential suitor’s nightmares, despite the fact his little girl was the most powerful individual on the planet. And then the Red Lotus had come back and stolen even more from her daughter.

Korra had stopped smiling after that.

They had tried everything they could. Love and patience and time, as their daughter collapsed inwards. Her smile didn’t come back with her strength. She’d just learned to fake it. The closest Senna got to see was a glimmer of it the day she set out to return to Republic City, and the feeling of hopefulness had lasted only until Tonraq questioned why she’d left Naga behind.

It had been eight months before she saw her daughter again.

The news had reached them but they’d set sail too late. Too late for the battle. And even though they knew waht had happened, had spoken to Korra on the radio, it was easy to imagine the worst as they drew close to the city. And then the little speck that Senna had taken to be a bird had started spiralling down towards them, turning into a figure with a glider. Korra landed lightly on the deck.

To say they were stunned at the change in her from when they had last seen each other would be putting it mildly. She’d left for the north ambulatory but hollow-eyed, distant. This Korra was so very, very alive. Her eyes sparkled, her laugh rang out as she lifted her father bodily in a hug without the aid of her avatar side, showing off the muscle she had regained. She could have almost been the same Korra who had first left for Republic City those years ago.   
“Your hair...” Senna began, but Korra pretty much crushed the air out of her as she embraced her in turn, and Senna couldn’t have cared less if Korra had shaved her entire head.

Well, maybe she would have cared just a little.

 

The island was thrumming with activity. It was hard for Senna and Tonraq to follow Korra’s simultaneous explanations of where she’d been in the missing six months and what had just happened. They did pick up one thing though.  
“There was still poison inside you?”   
Korra nodded.  
“Is that why...” Tonraq began and Korra paused on the stairs.  
“I think we all know it was more than that,” she said frankly. “But I’m doing better now.”

In hindsight Senna should really have put it together that night, when she stepped out of the room they had been given to see Asami Sato stood in the doorway of her daughter’s room, with a small rucksack hanging from one shoulder.  
“I tried going back to the mansion,” she began, but she didn’t finish before Korra was telling her not to worry, to come in, and the door was shut behind her. But she didn’t. Not yet, at least.

It was at the post wedding party that Senna saw them, sat alone together on the steps looking out at the city. It was a long while before they rejoined the party and when they did so they were both smiling a little shyly, and in Senna’s brain the wheels began to turn.

She wouldn’t have called it spying. She didn’t hide it. Neither did they. There wasn’t anything tangible, just a closeness. A certain quickness to smile. When Korra came to tell her and Tonraq that she was taking a break, trying desperately to assure them that she wasn’t going to vanish this time, Senna couldn’t even pretend to be surprised to learn Asami was going with her.

It was several months later when Senna found herself stood out on one of the palace balconies with Tonraq, watching the approaching figure of Naga in the distance.   
“Do you think they’ll tell us this time?” She asked Tonraq. He nodded.   
“I think so.”   
“It’d be about bloody time,” Senna mock-griped, but she couldn’t keep it up. “You know, out of all them? I think I’d have chosen her.”     
“No making moves on our daughter’s girlfriend,” Tonraq scolded. Senna rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go down and bank up the fire in the lodge, you know how cold Asami gets.”  
“I’ll be right down,” Senna told him. She didn’t go though. She stayed, watching Naga bounding closer. She watched her daughter help Asami down from the saddle, kissing her at the foot of the palace steps, and when she took Asami by the hand and led her up towards the doors Senna could see it. That smile.


	9. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Unalaq's defeat there's a moment of understanding.

Asami negotiated the lurching corridor with relative ease. She’d been on enough ships to get used to the pitch and roll, even in a storm like this. A good thing too; she’d ended up with a large number of that slimy bastard Varrick’s ships in the compensation deal for his embezzlement, and the contracts she had brokered with Tonraq and Desna and Eska would give her the funds she needed so badly to keep Future Industry not just afloat but profitable. She felt a little bad about profiting from the collapse of a business, but given the CEO had tried to screw her over she couldn’t summon up too many tears. Thunder cracked and there was a crash rather closer to hand. Asami stopped short of her cabin. She knocked on the door she thought the sound had come from but received no answer. At the next clap of thunder she heard the slight yelp. Asami tried the door handle, mildly surprised to find it unlocked, and stepped into the cabin.

At first glance there was only Naga, curled up in front of the desk. The bed was empty, unmade blankets spilling off the side. Asami looked around.  
“Korra?”  
“I’m not here,” came a small voice. Asami had to force herself not to laugh. Then there was another flash of lightning and a thump from somewhere behind Naga. Asami blinked.  
“Korra, are you under the desk?”  
“...no.”  
“Can I join you in not being under the desk?”  
There was a pause, and then Naga shifted. She eyed Asami slightly suspiciously as she joined Korra in the cramped space, folding her knees up to her chest. Korra was hunched in on herself, as if expecting their makeshift ceiling to cave in. There was a bottle in her hands.  
“And where did you get that?”  
Korra gave her a look.  
“Asami, I’m the damn Avatar. I just stopped a civil war, defeated the spirit of chaos and, just in case I needed a little extra sway, my dad’s now the chief of the tribe. You really think a guy in a store is going to refuse to serve me?”  
Asami had to admit she had a point.

“Can I ask why you’re...”  
Asami didn’t get a chance to finish because there was another flash of lightning. Korra flinched. “You’re kidding me.” Asami said, in disbelief. “You’re afraid of this little storm? Korra, you know you can create lightning, right?”  
Korra scowled at her. “I know. I just...I don’t really like lightning, ok?” her gaze dropped and she mumbled something that didn’t make any sense, and then repeated herself a little louder at Asami’s request. “It killed me once, ok? Or Aang, at least. And now that’s pretty much all that’s left of him because I got him killed all over again.”  
Asami was beginning to feel she’d gotten in over her head.  
“Aang’s been dead a while,” she began gently, wondering just how drunk Korra was, and got another glare.  
“I know that! But he was still...” she touched her chest. “But I let Unalaq kill him! I let them all get killed again and now...now I’m alone.” She took a drink. “Ten thousand years of Avatars. And I broke the cycle. Now it’s just me and-” there was another flash of lightning and Korra winced. “and this stupid fucking fear. I mean, I had to hang onto that? Even without everything else?”   
Yep. Asami was definitely in over her head.  
“you don’t know a lot about avatar stuff, do you?” Korra realised.  
“About as much as you know about mechanical engineering.”  
“So bugger all then?”  
Asami nodded.

Asami glazed over slightly as Korra went into a slightly confused, rambling explanation that was in no way helped by the half bottle of whiskey that Korra had drunk before she’d arrived. Still, Asami understood loss well enough, even if she couldn’t get her head quite round the spiritual specifics.  
“It wasn’t your fault, Korra.”  
Korra snorted.  
“Who opened the portals and let Unalaq get all freaky with Vaatu again?”  
Asami tried to block out the mental images. Korra really needed to pick her words more carefully.  
 “I nearly got Jinora worse than killed, broke the Avatar cycle, and nearly let the world plunge into chaos and darkness.”  
“But you...”  
Korra did not seem to be in the mood to be cheered up.  
“ _And_ I straight-up murdered my uncle. Aang managed to take out freaking _Ozai_ without killing him, but oh no, worst Avatar ever here, I just _had_ to rip his soul apart.”  
“Ok, that’s enough.” Asami said firmly. She adopted a more gentle tone. “No one blames you for how things turned out. You did the best anyone could in the circumstances, and even your cousins weren’t exactly torn up about Unalaq.”  
“I made Katara cry,” Korra muttered. "When I told her Aang was..."  
“No. Unalaq did. Or Vaatu, or Unavaatu or whatever. Not you.” Asami could tell Korra wasn’t really taking any of this in. “Maybe I should get Mako...” she began, but she saw the shift in Korra’s expression. At least this was familiar ground. Over-familiar, in fact. “Oh boy. What happened this time?”  
“I broke up with him. Again.” Korra took a swig from the bottle and Asami found herself wondering just how much of this she’d even remember in the morning. And wondering what would happen if she said some of the less than charitable thoughts that had been floating around her mind ever since Mako had dumped her. “I got my memories back and realised he’d been...well, basically lying his ass off.”  
Asami did not want to discuss relationship problems with Mako with Korra. She was a good person, or at least she tried to be, but this was too much.  
“You know something?” Korra asked, in the tones of one who is going to tell you whether you want to know it or not. “Him. And Bo. First guys, first people I’ve ever...oh what’s the damn word...f...f...”  
she snapped her fingers as she tried to recall the word and Asami tried to resist the urge to put her hands over her ears. Really? Bo too? “...friends!” Korra finally exclaimed triumphantly, to Asami’s relief and shock. “I mean, aside from occasional visits from my cousins, him and Bo are the first people my age I’ve ever even been around.”  
A lot of things suddenly made sense. It wasn’t an excuse, but it was at least an explanation.

“I thought it was going to be like Aang.” Korra admitted, gesticulating as much as she could in the tiny space. “You know? Run into someone, click, boom, happy ever after. Same with bloody Roku. And Kuruk. And Kyoshi, well, I’m not even getting started on Kyoshi. Not me though.”  
Asami considered reminding her that at seventeen there was plenty of time to worry about finding a partner, but Korra just lapsed into silence, staring into the bottle. She seemed to have forgotten all about the storm outside. Asami had never seen Korra looking this small before. She reached out awkwardly, putting an arm round Korra’s shoulders. The Avatar leant against her, and let Asami take the now three quarters empty bottle from her grasp.

Asami wasn’t quite sure when they dozed off. When she woke she had an agonizing crick in her neck and Korra wasn’t faring much better.  
“Thanks for last night,” she told her later, as she did her best to ease the tension in Asami’s neck. Waterbending was certainly a useful gift. “Uh...well that sounded...yeah...um...”  
“Relax,” Asami told her. “Look, I get it, ok? If you need to talk or just be around people...” She left the sentence hanging.  
“Thanks,” Korra said sincerely. “It’s um, it’s easier with you, you know? Talking about this stuff.”  
“Any time,” Asami promised. She closed her eyes as Korra worked. “Don’t be a stranger, ok? When we get back to Republic City. Hell, maybe we can finally get you driving.”  
Korra snorted.  
“I’d have figured you’d had enough near death experiences for now, but sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The grand finale will be up soon, and then it'll be back to my regular fics! Hopefully what I've got planned for the last one will live up to expectations.


	10. 1920s/40s AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this one got away from me a bit.

Asami rubbed at her temples, trying to banish the headache. If she had to deal with one more condescending sleazebag today she was probably going to scream. The possession of a Y chromosome was _not_ in fact integral to the process of running a company, but it’d be a cold day in hell before any of the idiots she had to work with would accept that. She wasn’t sure if they knew she could hear the comments they made under their breath or not. She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer. She knew she’d quite like a drink, but apparently that wasn’t the done thing for a respectable woman to do in the middle of the working day. Her father had got through a decanter a week in meetings alone, but perish the thought she have as much as a sip to get her through the day.

“Miss Sato?”  
Asami dragged herself back into the present. The secretary was hovering at the door, arms full of yet more paperwork. She waved the woman in.  
“Have you ever heard of an establishment called the called the White Kite, Jin?”  
The woman froze in the act of setting down the sheets.  
“Why do you ask?”  
“Something that absolute wanker said on his way to the door. It is a local establishment then?”  
“Yes, Miss Sato. Only it’s not the sort of place a respectable lady like yourself should think of visiting.”  
“Respectable ladies sit at home and knit socks, Jin, I run a company and an engineering company at that. I don’t generally count as respectable.”  
“Even still, miss. It isn’t a place for respectable folk.”

Asami leaned back in her chair, studying the woman.   
“Jin, I do wish you’d explain a little more fully.”  
The woman looked torn.  
“It’s not...” she swallowed. “It’s a place for those ladies, like the ones you hired for the welding floor? That sort of folk?”  
“It’s a welders’ pub?” Asami asked, nonplussed. Jin was nearly sweating from the effort of trying to convey such delicate information to her employer.  
“No, miss. You know why those ladies were looking for work, why they didn’t have any references? All...unmarried...and such?”  
The penny dropped with a loud clang.   
“There’s a place like that in the city?” Asami asked, in a tone of surprise that might just have passed for shock.  
“Oh yes, miss. There’s all sorts in this wretched city.”  
“So it would seem.” Asami said thoughtfully.

It wasn’t like she could just go down to the shop floor and ask. That would be entirely too simple. Thankfully Asami had other means at her disposal.

“So good to see you again,” Asami smiled as Mako took a seat, unbuttoning his jacket as he did so. It was rather severe, even for a detective, but it suited him better than a constable’s uniform.   
“It’s been far too long.”   
“Mako...this isn’t...”  
“This is two old friends meeting for lunch,” he said, and Asami breathed a sigh of relief. Their breakup had been less than amicable, and at least a part of her had feared that Mako would think they were having a third shot at things. They ordered, making small talk, until Mako said, quite politely, “So what was it you needed?”  
He chuckled as Asami gaped like a fish. “it’s quite alright, Asami. Any excuse to meet with friends is a welcome one. Hopefully the next will be purely for pleasure rather than business?”  
“Of course,” Asami promised. She chose her words carefully. “There are rumours reaching me from the shop floor and I wanted to run them by someone trustworthy and discrete before they got out of hand.”  
“Well we seem to be rather short on those. Will I do?”  
“I think so.” Asami smiled. “Mako, what do you know of an establishment known as the White Kite?”

Mako stared at her, a slightly uncomfortable scrutiny that made Asami want to look away. It was Mako who broke eye contact first.   
“I know the place.”   
He took a sip of water, mulling it all over. “There are some who would call it a den of iniquity, vice and sin and demand that I storm it this very evening with a dozen of my most unforgiving officers and haul off anyone I found within to the cells. I’ve seen dens of iniquity, however. The place is licensed, orderly, causes no trouble and pays no money to any triad. They hurt no one. The law they _allegedly_ ,” he stressed the word, “break, is one without a victim. There are ten thousand things in this city I would tackle before I even thought to make an issue of the Kite and its patrons. Asami, I’d advise you to simply turn a blind eye and deaf ear, though that is of course up to your own conscience.”  
There was something in his smile that suggested he hadn’t bought her pretext at all. 

It took Asami a few days to work up the courage. Three times she almost made it to the door. Once she’d nearly grasped the handle, but every time she’d turned back. Not tonight. She squared her shoulders in the foggy gloom, wrenched open the door, and walked in. She stopped dead. Whatever she’d been expecting, whatever this place had done to gain its infamous reputation, she hadn’t expected this. It was just so... _normal_.

Asami saw polished wood and gleaming brass fittings, bottles on racks and hand pumps. She forced herself to walk forward through what was, for the time of day, a moderate crowd. Not one person gave her a second glance but she still itched to pull her hat over her face, to turn and run. She made it to the bar before her knees folded, sitting down on a high stool. The barman was facing away, cleaning up something on the back bar For all the rumour he was very respectfully dressed; crisp, well fitted white shirt, ( _very_ well fitted, Asami thought, admiring how it accentuated rather than flaunted his well-muscled back) and suspenders, though his hair was rather long for a man, pulled back into a short wolftail. Asami swallowed, apparently loud enough for him to hear. He turned, revealing a black tie at his throat. Only it wasn’t a barman. It wasn’t a ‘he’ at all.  
“Hi there,” she gave Asami a crooked grin. “What can I get for you?”  
Asami just stared. The barwoman, it seemed ridiculous to call her a barmaid, just smiled more broadly, leaning against the bar. Asami couldn’t help notice the shift, and the corresponding flex of her biceps against the shirt. “First time? It’s ok. Just breathe, and if you do get overwhelmed and run out screaming please just try not to break anything on the way.”  
“uh...I...drink?” Asami managed, and immediately wanted to crawl in a hole, but the barwoman just smiled.   
“Sure. What’ll it be? We’ve got quite a range...”  
“Whiskey.” At least that was a question Asami could handle. The woman nodded. “Single malt, if you’ve...”  
Asami followed the woman’s gaze to an entire shelf of whiskeys. Oh yes. Den of iniquity be damned, she was going to like this place.   
“Do you like it smoky?”  
Asami nodded. The woman sized up the bottles, reached for one, reconsidered and fetched another down.   
“Sixteen years old, and as smoky as hell’s chimney. Ice?”  
“No, thank you.”  
The woman poured a very generous measure of the amber liquid, and then a second for herself. Asami decided not to question it. She accepted the glass, taking a sniff. It smelled divine.    
“How much do I owe?”  
“You don’t.”  
Asami’s brow creased. “But...”  
The woman waved her objections away. “First one is free. On account of the sheer brass balls it takes to walk through those doors,” she indicated them quite unnecessarily, “without knowing what’s on the other side.”  
“I think I like this policy.” Asami held up her glass and the barwoman clinked her glass against it.  
“My name’s Korra. Welcome to the White Kite, miss...?”  
“Call me Asami.”  
The crooked grin was back.   
“Very nice to meet you, Asami.”

With the first drink slowly warming her veins Asami felt confident enough to swivel and survey the other customers. It still just looked normal. There more women in the bar than might be normal, and the ratios of the little groups did not fit the norm, but that was all. It was almost disappointingly decent.  Korra seemed amused by all this. Or maybe she just smiled a lot.

Another member of staff joined Korra behind the bar as the crowd began to build, chatting easily with the customers. Her hair, tied back in a ponytail, was grey, but for that and a few lines she could have been thirty. The pair had clearly worked with each other for quite some time, and Asami found herself wondering if they were just that, a pair, despite the age difference. Up until Korra made a joke about the other woman, Kya, working so slowly that she was behaving more like her grandmother than her aunt, and took a retaliatory but good natured thwack from a coiled tea towel for the remark. Some trick of fate made Korra turn Asami’s way, still laughing, and catch her eye, and Asami felt her smile broadening. The knot in her stomach was easing by the moment. Or at least it was, until she turned her head slightly and saw the figure that had entered the bar. Her stomach did not just knot. It dropped. She knew that scarred face. The whole city did. The chief of police had entered the building and was making a line straight for the bar.

Asami scanned around the room but she couldn’t see an exit, nowhere to hide. Her first night, her first stinking night, and she was going to be caught. She tried to come up with some excuse but nothing was coming to mind. She saw Korra look her way and frown, evidently spotting her distress but not the danger at hand. Lin Beifong reached the bar, not three feet from Asami, and reached across, seizing Kya’s tie. Asami braced herself as Kya leaned over...and kissed her. Asami gaped.   
“Evening, Chief,” Korra nodded. “Do you mind not scaring the shit out of the new punters, if you’d be so kind?”  
Lin glanced sideways. She didn’t look surprised in the slightest to see Asami, still white faced, clutching her glass so tightly she was in danger of shattering it.  
“Leave me some fun, kid,” she said. “Usual.” Her face softened. “And one for miss seen-a-ghost over there.”  
Kya got the drinks, pouring for herself and Korra as well. Korra crossed over to Asami, gently removing the glass from her grip with surprisingly soft hands.  
“You’re ok here,” she promised. “We can be ourselves here, without fear.”  
“Big promise.”  
There was a glint in Korra’s eye.   
“I’ve kept it so far.”  
And then she was called back up the bar to toast with Kya and Lin.

It was a over a week before Asami returned to the Kite. A week full of thoughts of sapphire eyes and an easy smile. She thought of the welders and sent out a memo to the foremen of certain shifts, chosen after careful review of the personal files, telling them to announce that, given the current workload, Future Industries would be taking on more staff and that there would be a reward for every referral that ended in a hiring. Asami was slightly too pleased by the look on Jin’s face as she tried to explain that this would certainly end up with more of those ‘unmarried’ types arriving at the factory.

The memory of Korra’s grin was nothing to the real thing when Asami pushed through the door that evening.

Her visits started getting more and more frequent, the snatches of conversation growing longer. Korra would sling her towel over her shoulder, leaning on the gleaming bar, and they’d talk until Kya interrupted to remind Korra that there were other customers at the bar waiting to be served.  

One night she came in to find music playing, and couples dancing together in a way they wouldn’t have dreamt of trying in any other establishment. Asami stopped to enjoy the sight, and then Kya shoved Korra into her. Korra barely caught her before she hit the floor. It took a moment for Korra to set her back on her feet, stammering apologies and blushing adorably, her usual cocky swagger very, very absent.   
“Tell you what,” Asami smiled. “I’ll forgive you, for a dance.”  
“That seems only fair.”  
Asami was only too happy to let Korra to take her by the arm. “I should warn you, I’ve got two left feet.”

She really didn’t. Asami could have danced with Korra all night, in that slightly chaotic tangle of people, finding herself entirely too close to the woman, paying entirely too much attention to how she moved. Her hips moved far more than was decent but in this company who was going to complain? Every step they took was indecent. Every moment. So they might as well enjoy it, until Korra was called away because Kya was getting swamped at the bar.   

Asami stayed until the bar was empty, talking as Korra and Kya tided up. She didn’t miss the glance that passed between the two, the slight reddening of Korra’s cheeks. She came up to Asami’s stool.   
“You know, we’re closed down here. But, um, if you fancied another drink...I’ve got a bottle upstairs.”  
Asami looked up into big, blue, nervous eyes, and managed to nod.

Their first kiss was in Korra’s cluttered kitchen and it tasted of whiskey. It was soft and slow and gentle, and when Asami stepped back she hit the chair with the back of her knee and folded down onto it.   
“Easy there,” Korra laughed.   
“Your fault, making my head spin,” Asami pretended to grumble, and reached up to grab Korra’s tie, pulling her back within her reach.

It was only when Kya went thumping up the stairs past the flat that they broke apart again. Asami checked her watch and was shocked to see how late it had gotten.   
“I should go.”  
If Korra was disappointed by that she didn’t show it. She walked her down to the door, giving her directions to the taxi rank.  
“I’d walk with you, but...”  
She didn’t need to say it. She knew the risks in just coming to a place like this. She didn’t need to make it any worse. “I’ll see you soon?”  
Asami kissed her.  
“Of course.”

 

It was growing increasingly hard for Asami to not dropkick Jin out of her office. Apparently there had been more complaints about that group of welders. Namely that the group was growing in size, and that one had kneed another worker in the testicles for getting handsy in the factory bar after work. Asami had been idly wondering how to give them a raise for, albeit accidentally, pointing her in the direction of the bar and Korra, and the new accusations were pushing those thoughts beyond idle. The man in question had already been sacked. The foreman of the shift, the culprit’s uncle, had tried to defend his nephew but Asami had just stared at him until his excuses died in the back of his throat, told him to spread the word that such actions would not be tolerated, and sent him away with his tail firmly between his legs.

When Asami arrived at the bar that night things were a little different. For one thing much of the furniture had been overturned. Korra was sat on one of the chairs that was still the right way up with a rather large whiskey in front of her and a small knot of women around her. Her tie was gone, hair messed up, and she was holding a damp towel to a swelling lip. She looked up as Asami entered and the momentary concern in her eyes was immediately replaced with joy.  
“Asami!”  
“What happened?” Asami glanced round, seeing the glitter of broken glass on the floor, and blood on Korra’s knuckles.  
“My fault,” said one of the young women sat by Korra, and Asami tried not to feel too jealous of how close she was to Korra. “My father...Well...”  
“Was an ass,” another supplied. “Same old, same old. Like he didn’t cut Mei off two years ago when he caught us.”  
“He cut you off?”  
“And threw me out of the house until I promised I’d ‘got over this nonsense’” Mei grimaced. “Then he told my old boss about what a ‘deviant’ I was and there goes that job, and the rest of the girls too. Thankfully Future Industries was expanding on we’d all be up the crapper.”  
Asami tried not to meet Korra’s eyes. The grin was threatening to split her lip further. Mei continued. “Honestly, I half think Sato’s onto us. I’m surprised she isn’t printing recruitment posters in rainbow colours!”  
One of her companions looked less convinced.  
“You really think she does anything with the day to day? Probably just sits up in her office and does...what do rich people even do? I doubt she even knows we exist.”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Korra said lightly, not looking away from Asami’s reddening face.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” Asami whispered as the crowd went up to the bar. Korra raised one eyebrow.  
“Given my both my occupation and orientation, why exactly would you think I’d be one for outing people?”  
Asami had to admit that she had a point. Korra stood up a little gingerly, one hand going to her ribs.   
“Ladies, gentlemen, valued guests and people who just snuck in to use the lavatories,” there was a little snigger from the patrons. “It would seem Mr Fen has done a good job of clearing our dance floor. I suggest we use it.” She turned to Asami, bowing low. “Miss Sato, might I have this dance?”  
Asami stared at her, at the offered hand with its bloody knuckles, wondering if Korra had gone mad. But then, she reasoned, when the whole world was against you, maybe you should take any opportunity to dance. She took it. And a few hours later that hand led her once more up the stairs to Korra’s flat. But it was Asami who led the way, not into the kitchen, but into Korra’s bedroom.

Asami had waited for this moment for longer than she would care to admit. She’d never imagined it taking place in quite this setting, this slightly small room, with its errant socks on the floor, or with a woman quite like Korra. She was glad she hadn’t. It made it all the better. Still she hesitated, afraid she’d gone too far, too fast, until Korra (with her customary crooked grin) pulled her shirt off over her head without bothering to unbutton it. And Asami just stared, because while she’d seen, ogled, the muscles through Korra’s shirt she hadn’t quite been expecting the tattoos. She looked from the intricate inking around Korra’s bicep and back up to those big blue eyes.  
“Full of surprises, aren’t you?”   
The grin widened.  
“Oh, just you wait and see.”

And Asami did see. She saw late into the night, until her hands hurt from gripping the sheets.

 

Asami groaned as the light woke her, streaming through a gap in the curtains, and nuzzled into Korra’s side. Korra, still half asleep, pressed a kiss on her temple for her efforts. It took quite some time for Korra to wake fully, understandable given her exertion the night before. Finally though she sat up with a grunt, the sheets pooling around her waist. Asami took in the expanse of bare back, the muscles, the beautiful pattern drawn there that had been rather marred by her nails the previous evening, but Korra had bent down to kiss her again before her could apologise.  
“Breakfast?”

Korra found a spare blanket, throwing it over her shoulders like a shawl as she headed to the kitchen. Asami tried to get comfy but the bed felt all too big and empty. She got to her feet, pulling on the first piece of clothing, in this case Korra’s shirt, that she could find and followed her out.

Korra was standing at the stove frying something, the blanket just about covering her as Asami approached and wrapped her arms around her, resting her chin on Korra’s shoulder.

There were a lot of things they didn’t know then. They didn’t known that, on meeting Korra’s parents, particularly after discovering who exactly they were, Asami would become so tongue-tied that she would introduce herself as ‘Salami Shako’. They didn’t know that an attempt at meeting Hiroshi Sato would result in Korra facing a considerable fine from Republic City Prison that Asami had been only too happy to pay, considering that she had been only a few seconds of doing the exact same thing. And they didn’t know that, half a lifetime away, they’d get to finally, _finally_ get the legal backing to the vows they’d exchanged fifty years before under the perpetual sun of a Southern summer. All they knew then, in that moment in a too-small kitchen, was that the world felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have the belated end to my contribution to Korrasami Month. I won't be joining in Korra appreciation month because I've neglected my other fics a little too long and it's already a third of the way through (although I may do the odd prompt or two).


End file.
